“Then there was Kjar. You called him a magic man,” Veronica murmured.
“And Meyla and Valan.” Amber grinned even though she didn’t mean to. “I kinda like them…and Kol,” she said as an afterthought. “Bonafide troublemaker that one.”
But it was Veronica’s words that ensnared Megan and she probably looked at her for the first time with genuine need for guidance. “How do I know Heidrek is okay? I tried so hard to save him.”
Veronica’s eyes filled with moisture, but she quickly blinked it away, realizing she needed to be the strong one now. “Focus on those last moments you had together, that you stayed strong. He knew you were coming for him. That means everything. Hold onto that for now then we’ll go from there, okay?”
Spoken from the heart, Veronica’s advice was that of a woman who had lost a child. Megan leaned her head against her sister’s shoulder. “You’re right, sis.”
From there her sisters and Sean let the conversation flow slow and easy.
Too easy.
Though happy to be in the present, every second of every minute her mind was on Naðr. The devastation of seeing his ship go down, of potentially having lost him, gnawed at her.
“Where’s the cylinder that was attached to my back?”
The room fell silent as Sean left.
She looked at her sisters. “What?”
Amber handed her the beer. “Why don’t you drink a bit.”
The look on Megan’s face had her sister setting it aside quickly and plunking down across from her, an unnatural frown on her face.
“She’s just looking out for you,” Veronica muttered under her breath.
“Looking out for me how?”
Though Amber might’ve seemed reluctant and borderline deflated moments before, she piped right up. “You told us whatever’s in that cylinder would take you back to,” she made quotation marks in the air, "Naðr Véurr.” Then her little sister sounded downright incredulous. “Ever since your accident you’re convinced that you traveled back in time to ancient Scandinavia.”
Blindsided, she looked from Amber to Veronica. “We haven’t had a chance to talk but…you both think I’m making this up, don’t you?”
“All we’ve done is talk,” Amber defended.
“When she was looped on medication,” Veronica countered and sighed as she wrapped her arm around Megan’s shoulders and met her eyes. “She’s worried. As am I. Forgive us.”
Fine. Whatever. Still.
Megan felt so lost, adrift, confused. She wished Naðr was here, that he was alive and could make sense of this. But he wasn’t and couldn’t…no…because he was long dead.
Sean rejoined them. “Here they are.”
Megan launched from the couch and grabbed the pouch that had been strapped to her back. “The stone and the cylinder.” She frowned at the box with the other two stones that had been in her garage. “Why that?”
“You asked for both items.”
“I did?”
“Many times.”
“Oh.” She reluctantly took the box as well and nodded. “Thanks.”
But Sean didn’t let go entirely of the pouch, his eyes firm on hers. “I won’t hand this over if you don’t sit down right now and tell your sisters about what’s in that box from start to finish.”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Yes. Now.”
Megan swallowed hard. Crap. He meant it…and he was right. But how could she tell them without sounding nuts? “They won’t believe me.”
“I barely believe you but here I am,” he answered. “Give them the benefit of the doubt. Let them into the confusion and terror you’ve been feeling for far too long.”
“Not terror really,” she defended.
“Share,” he reiterated.
“Fine,” she huffed but Sean knew she meant no harm as he plunked down next to Amber. Megan sunk to her knees within feet of the fire. How was she supposed to go about this when even she was wondering what had happened? Truly, she’d gone out diving then maybe…just maybe…she had a dream…
But as Megan opened the box and poured out the contents of the bag that Naðr strapped to her back hours, a day, a thousand years before, she had a strong sense that her Viking king was forever by her side.
Her stone.
The cylinder.
Tokens that had been in his hands rolled onto the floor. Blinking away tears, she explained the stones, the symbols etched on them and all she’d learned in ninth century Scandinavia about the seers, even the dragon brothers. Either her sisters would believe her or not. She wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t. Because she sounded insane.
When she was finished, silence fell, long and heavy.
Veronica handed Megan the beer and she took a hearty swallow. Then her sister leaned forward, concerned. “Sweetie, you already shared all of this and we’re still trying to figure out what to make of it.” Her eyes went to the cylinder. “What we want to know is what’s in that?”
Jaw set, Megan glared at them. “You could have told me that I’d already covered all this. What was the point in making me relive it all again?”
“We needed to hear it, all of it, from you,” Sean said.
When Megan frowned, Amber shrugged. “Sorry sis, we just wanted to see if you’d say the same things now that you’re off the drugs. You did.”
Dumbfounded, Megan shot, “So does that mean you believe me, now? Does it make any of this real?”
“Open the cylinder,” Sean said. “That will be real, Megan.”
If she didn’t love them all so much, she might’ve told them to go to hell. But the people in this room cared about her and damn if she didn’t know it. So, determined to keep thoughts of Naðr far from her mind, she nodded. “Fine.”
But even as she twisted the cap on the cylinder she thought of the first time she’d found it on the longship settled beneath the Atlantic. Then Naðr strapping it to her back, worried over her welfare.
“Shoot,” she whispered and hung her head. “I want to see what’s in this…and I don’t.”
“Then I’ll open it for you.” Megan’s eyes shot open as Veronica knelt in front of her and grabbed the cylinder. “Ready?”
Megan shook her head and snatched it back. “No, I’ll do it. It’s meant for me. My way back to him.”
“I know.”
This was it. A choice. Given to her. Take it or leave it.
She closed her eyes. As if it had just happened she was back on the longship, Naðr’s words and actions echoing in her mind. “Besides me, only Megan will ever know what’s in this cylinder because it is hers alone.” Naðr’s tender hand closed over her shoulder, his fingers dusting her tattoo. “As to what she’s been marked with, it is a claiming of the seers.” His hand squeezed gently. “She is here for me.”
“Is it there still?” she asked, clasping at her shoulder.
“The hot new tattoo that magically appeared? Sure is.” Amber grinned. “And it’s fabulous might I add.”
“Agreed,” Veronica said.
“Aren’t you curious where I got it?” she asked, seeing her chance to make them believe.
“You told us. In Scandinavia.” Sean sat next to her. “Hun, this is a lot for us to swallow but trust me we’re working on it. For all we know you could have gotten that tat before all this happened, especially considering your infatuation with the markings on the stone.” He nodded at the cylinder. “Are you ready now?”
This was so frustrating, but she couldn’t blame them for being less than convinced. If she were in their shoes, she’d feel the same way. It was time to open the cylinder. To see how she could get back to him…because one way or another, the concept of never seeing Naðr again seemed impossible.
So, hand slightly shaking, she removed the top.
For all the build-up to this she truly thought stars would burst over her head. Yes, magical stars. Maybe even little bursts of dragon fire. But no, nothing happened. Nothing at all. Megan cou
ldn’t help but grin. Her grand finale was pretty darn low key save for the others pouring over its innards.
But Megan supposed that was celebration enough and she was thankful for it as she waved their eager eyes away and tried her best to muffle a smile. “See. No fireworks.”
“What’s in it,” Sean prompted.
Megan didn’t hesitate to pull the tube of material out…and out…and out.
“Damn,” she muttered, as far more material than should have fit in the small tube soon lay across the carpet. “What is this?”
“A sail,” Sean murmured as he fingered the material. “A really well made one at that.”
“As in for a boat?” Amber said as she helped unroll it.
“Usually what sails are for, sweetheart.” But he shot her a wink before saying, “Help me push back the furniture. Let’s see how big it is.”
Even after couches, chairs, and end tables were pushed into far corners; it barely fit in her living room. Grin blossoming into a smile, Sean looked at Megan. “This is unbelievable.”
Already running the dimensions in her mind as she crouched, Megan fingered the sturdy yet delicate material as she met his eyes. “This is sail material but,” she rubbed her fingers, “different.”
“But it’s a sail.” Sean eyed the square dimensions of what they could manage to lay out. His eyes met hers and he shook his head. “If I didn’t know better…”
Suddenly Megan knew. “It’s meant for the boat we built.”
“Mostly you, Sea Siren,” he murmured as an incredulous but small smile met his lips. “Meant for you…to sail back to him.”
Chapter Eighteen
Two Weeks Later
Bundled up in a down jacket and warm boots, Megan sat on her back deck and stared out over Frenchman Bay. Though her sisters had stayed an extra week, she finally managed to convince them to go home. She’d done her best to keep a brave face and to show them the strength they needed to see. Yet even when they left, both wore concerned expressions. They’d texted and called every day since to check on her.
“Hey,” Sean said as he joined her. “It’s too cold to be sitting out here.”
He’d been over daily and though he said it was to do touch-ups on the boat she knew he was there to make sure she was okay. Unlike with her sisters, she didn’t have to be strong for him which was a relief because she was miserable.
“I’m fine,” she murmured. “Fresh air’s good for me.”
“Mm hmm.” He sounded less than convinced. “You gonna come down to the bar tonight? They’re throwing a Halloween party.”
“Naw.” She shook her head. “Probably just catch a movie with Guardian.”
“It’d do you good to be around people. I hate seeing you so sad. You’re too thin and all you do is sit out here staring at the ocean.”
When she didn’t respond right away, he waited. The weeks since she’d returned had been painfully difficult and even more so once her sisters left. She had no way of knowing if Naðr had survived, but that didn’t keep her from constantly thinking about going back. What if he was alive? If so, was he missing her as much as she missed him? The dull ache, the absolute emptiness in her chest, wouldn’t abate. If anything, her longing grew.
Eventually she murmured, “I just miss him so much. All of them. More than I thought possible.”
“And I miss you,” he said softly and sighed, eyes meeting hers. “You know that whether or not we can truly wrap our heads around it, your sisters and I do believe you.”
It was sweet of him to say, but she knew it was a half-truth at best. Time travel, dragon shifters, Vikings, magical ships, it all sounded way too far-fetched.
So she changed the subject. “How are you doing since Amber left?”
“I’m all right.” He shot her a grin. “Wiped out.”
“I’ll bet.” She rolled her eyes and matched his grin. “But she has a funny way of bringing out your charming side, Sean.”
“I didn’t think I had one of those.”
“You don’t. Usually.” Then her grin fell away. It hadn’t felt comfortable anyways. “Seriously though, you’re okay?”
“I am,” he admitted. “Believe it or not it gets easier every time she goes.”
Megan sighed but gave no response.
“You’ve been reading the hell out of that manuscript. Pages are in rough shape,” he commented. “Learn anything new?”
“No, but I’ll admit it all strikes me far more interesting now that I know it actually happened…time-travel, magic…” she trailed off.
Sean stared out over the harbor and grew silent for a time. He genuinely surprised her when he murmured, “Are you in love with him?”
Megan didn’t need to ask who as she met his eyes and whispered, “I think I must be for it to hurt so much.”
“Awe, hell honey.” He stood and pulled her close for a big hug. “I’m so sorry.”
Then he pulled away and studied her. “I’ve got to get some stuff done before the party. You sure you don’t wanna come?”
“Positive.” She plunked down in the chair again. “You go have fun, okay?”
Sean ran a hand through his hair and eyed her warily before nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Sure thing.”
Megan resumed staring at the sea when Sean paused at the top of the stairs, his words so soft she barely heard them. “My brother is in love with you too, Sea Siren.”
“What?” Her eyes shot to Sean, but he’d vanished.
Then Megan jerked awake. She blinked. What the heck? It was much later in the day. Had Sean even been here? He must’ve been. That last statement had to have been a dream though because it had reminded her too much of…Kol?
A low sound came from nearby and Megan stopped breathing. The large raven was perched on the railing staring at her. Aesa’s Valkyrie. It cried out once, twice, and then launched into the air.
Her eyes followed it as it sailed out over the bay. Thin layers of dark clouds blanketed the horizon. Suddenly, sunlight shot through a small break, casting both the sea and water into an even more brilliant blue.
The exact color of Naðr’s eyes.
Her eyes rounded at what shimmered and flickered as it burst from beneath the water as a ghostly mirage. There was no other way to describe it. It broke the surface like a submarine would. First it was transparent then had more context as it did something no sailing vessel would ever be able to do after being submerged. Whole, sitting comfortably on the calm water, it was turning her way, sail intact.
Naðr’s ship.
Their ship.
The wind kicked up as Megan stood and grasped the railing. Her heart surged and a tear slid down her cheek. Please don’t let this be a dream. Please let this be real. Whether or not it was, she knew at that moment that she had to go back.
She had to know if he was still alive even if it meant being stuck back in time without him.
Guardian whined and followed her as she raced into the house and grabbed a few sheets of the manuscript and a pen before heading for the garage. When she opened the door, she froze.
Not only was the boat on a trailer attached to her truck, but the sail that had been in the cylinder was now affixed to her little longship. All she had to do was raise it.
Awed, she stumbled forward and snatched up the note left on one of the bench seats.
Opening it, she read.
Hey Sea Siren,
Thought I’d get this set up for you just in case. Don’t have to tell you but keep the extra oars in the boat and stay damn safe. I might be the sort to let love get away but you’re not. Go get him. I’ll keep an eye on your sisters.
Sean
Hell, really? God, she adored that man.
Megan made sure the box with the remaining stones was left on her workbench then penned out three quick letters. One for each sister and one for Sean. She poured out her heart and let them know how much she loved them all. As was habit, she’d k
ept her will updated. Everything she owned went to her sisters save this house and property. They belonged to Sean.
“Well, that’s it then,” she said to Guardian, who smiled up at her.
Megan hit the automatic garage door opener, eyes wide and hopeful as she searched the horizon. The ship wasn’t gone! Not yet. But quickly fading. Hopping in her truck, she pulled out and angled the trailer down into the water alongside her dock. This wasn’t the first time she’d put a boat in the water alone.
By the time she had it tied off and pulled the trailer away, the ship was a scant outline. Flying, she changed into appropriate clothes, waterproof, warm boots, a jacket, gloves and a hat. Stone tucked safely in her pocket; Megan had just made it back to the boat when Guardian barked at her.
Right. Her dog.
“Oh, sweet girl, you’ve got to stay,” Megan murmured as she crouched and hugged her. “I could be sailing straight to my death right now.”
Her throat thickened with emotion as she kissed Guardian’s muzzle then stood, voice firm. “Stay, wolfy girl. Sean will take good care of you.”
Then, unable to look her in the eyes again, Megan got into the boat, untied it then pushed off, scooping the oars to thrust the boat forward. The waters had grown a bit choppier so she rowed hard. Then, against all odds, when waves should have pushed her in, the current propelled her forward.
But not before a loud thunk sounded behind her.
Megan glanced over her shoulder. Ugh. “Guardian! Bad girl.” Still she couldn’t help but grin when her dog wagged her tail and woofed. The unnatural shift in tide was carrying them out fast and the sail needed to be opened to allow for better control. “Well, I guess you’re in it for the long haul then.”
Yet the minute the sail was up, the weather shifted. It could change on a dime, but this didn’t fit any criteria she was accustomed to. Though nothing was in the area, it felt more like a system moving down from the great lakes at rapid speed without the benefit of Vermont and New Hampshire’s mountains to break it up some.
Viking King (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors, Book 1) Page 25